


Of Friendship and Sex

by Doceo_Percepto



Series: Bendy's Murderous Adventure Across Moominvalley [6]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Bendy has whatever genitalia he wants, Friend porn, Mentions of rape and murder, Other, Vagina Dentata, villains fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 13:58:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15196268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doceo_Percepto/pseuds/Doceo_Percepto
Summary: The Joxter and Bendy have an unusual friendship. But if something feels nice, the Joxter doesn't see why he should stop it.





	Of Friendship and Sex

When it came to sex, the Joxter only cared for Mymbles and Snufkins: Mymbles, because they know all about the ways of a mumrik’s body, and have something to teach even the most well practiced Joxter; and Snufkins, because they know almost nothing at all about a mumrik’s body (not even their own) and provide nice sport.

Bendy was very much outside both those categories. The Joxter may have watched him screw a Snufkin to death on their first meeting (and may have greatly enjoyed the sight), but the concept of himself having any carnal relations with the demon never crossed his mind. He was therefore shocked the first time, a mere two evenings after having met, that Bendy’s hand nonchalantly wandered into the Joxter’s lap while he was enjoying a nice smoke. He jumped, at first, and looked down in surprise, thinking it must have been a mistake. But Bendy wore a fiendish, knowing expression.

The Joxter considered pushing him off. He suspected that was the normal response to something so unconventional and most likely inappropriate. But _unconventional_ and _inappropriate_ tended to pique the Joxter’s curiosity. It was a terrible weakness of his. Exactly the sort of thing that sent him after Snufkins in the first place. So Bendy undid the clasp on his trousers, and snuck his hand inside, and the Joxter entirely failed to react the way one ought to.

Ought to’s were not things the Joxter liked, anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to see where this was going. He’d stop Bendy the moment things became uncomfortable, he reasoned - except, as several minutes passed, the Joxter found nothing whatsoever to complain about, and no reason at all to stop. When it was all said and done, Bendy slipped his hand out, licked it clean, and that was that. No fuss, no need for discussion, nothing. People waste a lot of time anxious about how to define words, feelings and events to each other, and the Joxter was glad Bendy didn’t seem to have the same tiresome habit.

In a tingling post-climax bliss, the Joxter finished the tobacco in his pipe, stretched, and then curled up to sleep.

The next day, nothing was changed. They talked just the same, gathered food, and joked about Snufkins. Around midday, Bendy wandered off, and they spent several hours apart without any bother. It seemed that what Bendy had done did not at all change the nature of their interactions: for this, the Joxter was grateful. He had no energy for fusses about things that need not be fussed over.

When Bendy next dipped his hand into the Joxter’s trousers, the Joxter was quite happy to let him work, certain it would both feel good and cause no trouble. The third time it happened, the Joxter asked after, “wouldn’t you like something in return?” just to be polite, to which Bendy replied,

“Nah. Doesn’t really do it for me.”

The Joxter was privately grateful. He continued to enjoy the singular and unreciprocated attention, which became a thing that they did on the occasions that days or weeks would pass between hurting Snufkins. It was a thing the Joxter never asked for but always appreciated, and sometimes craved.

Once, on a dozing afternoon by a lake, Bendy replaced his hand with his mouth. The Joxter’s clawed toes curled in his boots, and his thighs trembled. Having a bifurcated tongue, he discovered, could add quite a lot to the experience, especially if one knew the right ways to use it (which Bendy, very clearly, did). It took an embarrassingly short time, if the Joxter cared to be embarrassed about those things.

“Don’t even start,” he chided, when Bendy wiped his mouth and grinned like he was going to cause trouble.

“I didn’t say nothin’,” Bendy chuckled.

As the Joxter tucked himself in and rebuttoned his pants, he asked, “Where did you learn that from?”

“Humans. They look a bit like Snufkins but taller. And they do a lot of sitting in the same place instead of wandering.”

“Humm.”

Bendy continued, “Although, I never met a human that’s got two colors down there: it was always just one or another. Yours is way more interesting.”

The Joxter chirred. “Yours is nice, too.”

After that, it was a toss up whether Bendy used his hands or his mouth – or, most often, starting with the former and finishing with the latter. After one such session, the Joxter asked, panting, “are you certain there’s nothing I can do for you?” He intended it to be the last time asking this, since anyone answering the same to the same question twice ought to expect the question to be asked no longer.

This time, though, Bendy sat back, licking his lips with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Maybe,” he said. “If you’re up for it.”

“Oh?”

Bendy blankly looked at him. “Next time, you could screw me.”

The Joxter blinked, flummoxed. Then, “ah... shapeshifter.”

“Mhmm.”

Just to be sure he understood things right, “I’ll fit inside you…?”

“Oh, anything’ll fit if I want it to. You wouldn’t even be the biggest.”

The Joxter harrumphed.

“B-but,” Bendy hurriedly rectified, “you have a very nice size, too.”

“Hush.”

There wasn’t any hurry about it. They found another Snufkin – their fourth after joining efforts – shortly after, and acquired a canoe. The Joxter, who had missed the beautiful nest he was once part of (and was, dreadfully, kicked from), managed to cajole Bendy into dragging the canoe to a marvelous white-flowered clearing. The next few days were spent setting everything up. The canoe was converted to a nest, with the fluff of the Snufkin’s bedroll used for bedding, and his coat re-sewn into a blanket.

As the Joxter reclined in this canoe several days later, awash with the lingering scent of a Snufkin that was now very dead, he found himself aroused. Snufkin scents were endlessly tantalizing to a Joxter, especially a Joxter such as him, and now that smell bunched up all around him in the cotton bedding, teasing him to no end. But there were no Snufkins nearby to be easily caught. There was, however, Bendy curled by his side, and the Joxter didn’t see why he shouldn’t get a more skillful treatment than his own hand.

The only deterrent was Bendy’s apparent lack of interest in sexual matters right now - the demon lay very quiet: resting, though not sleeping. Perhaps he simply needed some inspiration, the Joxter thought. So he skimmed his fingers over Bendy’s back, rubbed his horns, played with his tail. While the demon made soft happy noises, he showed no further sign of sexual interest or action. Frustrated, the Joxter wiggled his fingers under the demon and rubbed his underside and between his legs. Still no new response. The Joxter was left admitting to himself he didn’t have the first idea about how to handle his friend.

He sighed, exasperated. “Bendy, I’m terribly turned on.”

Bendy raised his head. “ _Oh_. Oh, haha, I thought you were petting to be nice. Jox, you gotta know ya can’t get me riled up like that.”

“How _do_ I rile you?”

“Ya can’t, really. If you want something, you just gotta ask.”

“Then would you be so kind?“ the Joxter kneaded between his legs impatiently, “the scent of Snufkin is very titillating, you know.”

“Oh yeah? Is it?” Bendy purred, making a point of not helping.

Bendy had never played coy before: he had always been straight and to the point, the way the Joxter liked it. Of course he had to cause trouble the second the Joxter asked for it. “You are _very_ devilish,” the Joxter grumbled.

“I toldja I was a demon.” Bendy sidled closer and soothed his hand over the Joxter’s stomach.

“Well, it’s suitable. Let’s not play games, dear.” The Joxter gently touched his wrist, trying to guide him lower.

“Don’t call me dear.” Bendy’s hand danced away from the Joxter’s touch and took to petting his inner thighs.

“Bendy, then,” the Joxter said, pained.

“Devil darlin’,” Bendy said quietly, thoughtfully.

“Darling, then,” the Joxter was quickly losing his patience. “Won’t you help? Just a clear yes or no is all.”

“Oh, jeez, I dunno…” Bendy blew out of his lips, his fingertips teasing over the Joxter’s clothed cock.

Bendy was very mistaken about the sort of things the Joxter enjoyed in sex. He had no energy for this sort of song and dance, nor was he accustomed to denying himself what he desired. “Very well,” the Joxter groused, “I’ll take care of it myself.”

“Hold on-“ Bendy grabbed his wrist. “Get on top.”

“You’ll only be ridiculous about it.”

“C’mon,” Bendy whined, dropping his wrist in favor of reaching between his legs - and that, well, that wasn't so bad at all. “No more messing around. I’ll be good, promise.”

The Joxter considered asking Bendy to use his mouth. One couldn’t go wrong with that. But Bendy’s only request after delivering quite a multitude of nice treatments was that the Joxter screw him, so he supposed he’d have to put up with it. “Very well,” the Joxter said, shuffling his trousers down and framing Bendy on all fours.

“I knew you’d wanna.” Grinning, Bendy rolled onto his back like a cat and spread his legs, revealing a newly formed black slit, glistening with wet ink.

It was, the Joxter supposed, exactly what he should have expected, and yet he hesitated. How strange, to now be having doubts, after everything. Doubts were such a pesky thing to have. So much energy and anxiousness to get in the way of enjoying oneself. But this really was quite different from a Mymble or a Snufkin.

“Hey Jox, you’re supposed to put that –“ Bendy pointed, “in here. I thought you didn’t want any more playin’ around.”

The Joxter licked his lips. “Right.” Nervous, odd. He hadn’t been nervous in a very long time. Some well-placed touches helped him focus. He wriggled his hips lower – Bendy really was impractically small – and guided himself in, only about half an inch. Something licked the tip, and the Joxter jumped.

“What is that?”

“Yeesh, just get in-“

Bendy looped his legs over the Joxter’s hips and forced him in to the very hilt – the Joxter let out a choked gasp. Oh, goodness. There were many soft caressing things inside.

Bendy put his arms behind his head and smirked. “Yeah, that’s something I can do.”

His arrogance was a touch gratuitous, but credit ought to be given where credit was due. “Very lovely,” the Joxter said. Once he got over the surprise, the textures and sensations were pleasantly varying, sometimes focusing on just one spot, and sometimes everywhere all at once; sometimes like a number of little tongues and sometimes like one tight squeezing, undulating hole. How smoothly it shifted from one sensation to the next. “That _is_ lovely,” the Joxter repeated breathlessly, his hips jolting.

“Hey, you feel kinda nice, too.”

That didn’t sound exceptionally flattering, but the Joxter was focused enough on physical things so as to barely notice or care. It felt very much like this very important part of his body was being specifically tended to and cared for, like all the little tongues knew just how to tease his need, building his pleasure and the tension in his groin. Soon each tongue bloomed little nubs, and the Joxter purred with delight as he rubbed himself in and out the way he pleased.

Bendy went quiet after this. Joxter was a little disappointed at the lack of moans or begging, which were things he liked to see in Snufkins, but he supposed silence was better than unwarranted prattle. Silence allowed him to focus purely on the intense heat building, while all the rest of his body was becoming chillier and numb, and all the sensation concentrated in this one spot, which was tensing and tensing and tensing; his fists gathered in the cotton bedding as his thrusts became rough and uneven.

This, the Joxter thought hazily to himself, was not such a frightening idea after all.

Then the nubs clamped down hard around him, no longer soft but now _sharp_. The Joxter yowled like a wounded animal, and his trembling hips came to an abrupt, snared halt. “A-ah, stop, n-no, that hurts-“

But the little demon grinned up with a truly vile amusement. “What, ya don’t like it?” he crooned. “You were having so much fun just a second ago.”

“S-stop-“ The pressure was increasing, thorny protrusions digging into his sensitive skin. Panic seized him, “STOP NOW!”

It didn’t get any worse, but it didn’t get any better. The Joxter was thoroughly trapped. He hissed out of his teeth. “Bendy, let me go.”

“Gee, I dunno. Should I?”

“ _Why are you doing this_ – ah, dear- _darling_ , darling, please-“ This was far too reminiscent of the spikes he used on Snufkins. Far too dangerous. “It’s not like yours, please, I’ve only got the one-“

“Oh, I know that. Don’t ya trust me?” The spines near the head of his cock melted and began pumping with just the right amount of pressure.

“N-no- nhg.“ He panted. He needed so very badly to come: he was dreadfully unaccustomed to delaying it – and the new sensation made him want to dig his dick deep into the ink, but there was still a ring of spikes around the base that threatened him from any movement.

“Aw, use your words.” Bendy petted over his tensed belly.

The Joxter dug his teeth into his lip. He would not play this game.

Almost immediately, all sensation was removed aside from the spikes. The Joxter choked. “Bendy _what are you doing_.”

“I like it better when you’re all moany,” Bendy whined.

“You are an infernal creature, and I am never letting you do this again.”

“Oh.” Bendy’s expression could be perceived as hurt, if the Joxter cared at all to consider it. The spikes melted away almost instantly; freed, the Joxter seized Bendy’s legs, pulling out and ramming in – he derived especial satisfaction from Bendy’s resulting jump and “Oh!”

That was the most reaction he was able to get out of him, regretfully, before Bendy started chuckling, but the Joxter angrily tuned him out and made sure to be as violent as he had the energy for. The climax, when it swiftly arrived, was white-hot and numbing. The Joxter roused himself several seconds later with the drugged, hazy feeling lingering, but decided there was no need to mention he rarely experienced such intense climaxes.  

“That was cruel,” he said simply, inspecting his tender skin and wiping away ink.

“Aw, c’mon, that wasn’t so bad. The last person I did that with let me go way further than you did.”

“That was plenty,” the Joxter said hoarsely. “No more than that. Less than that, actually. _None_ of that.”

The entire experience warned him away from any future experiments, and for a while he swatted away Bendy’s hands, too. But the body is weak, and two days after their fifth Snufkin, Bendy managed work his way into the Joxter’s better graces with his tongue. The Joxter had to admit that there was something uniquely thrilling about the attention on the heels of seeing Bendy tear apart and devour a hapless Snufkin. His thoughts while Bendy worked vacillated between the vicious, spike-ridden thrusts that had gouged out the Snufkin's innards, and the numerous little tongues that had caressed him so lovingly. 

He let the latter thought linger, but did nothing to seek it. Days passed, and he sewed new overcoats into his blanket, added new bedding to his canoe, and strung up their growing harmonica collection into the waving white-flowered branches above his head.

Finally, with the both of them sitting on a hill of flowers and admiring the stars as the night deepened, the Joxter asked, “Why do you do it?”

“Huh?”

The Joxter tugged off his hat, plucked a large wildflower, and settled it in his hair. "Sex, of course. You have no need for it." 

Bendy shrugged. “I dunno. I don't get all hot an' worked up like mumriks and humans. But it’s a nice feeling, havin’ someone inside me."

"Hm."

Bendy tore up grass and seemed to struggle for words. "I'm sorry," he finally said, and it was the first time the Joxter had ever seen him genuinely apologetic. "I did actually think you'd like the spikes, yanno. It was supposed to be fun for ya."

"Why on earth would you think-" then the Joxter fell silent as a few things clicked. "Your... friend."

"Sammy."

"That's a silly name."

Bendy laughed. "Okay,  _Joxter._ " He flopped onto his back and looked up at the stars, stretching.

The Joxter hummed. “Let’s find a Snufkin soon.”

“Ooh, can you smell one?”

“Distantly.” The Joxter sniffed. “Mostly, I simply want to see you eviscerate one. It’s such a vivid sort of experience.”

“Haha, well, if you ask so nice- oh.”

That night, Bendy was perfectly behaved and didn’t bring out any of those awful spikes. But the Joxter was thinking maybe he wouldn't mind them after all, every once in a while.


End file.
